Unsuspecting
by Beregond5
Summary: G1. Eighth part of the Patient H-18 series. No one knows what the future holds. Warning: - Canon - Character death.


Bluestreak stood in attention in the centre of Ultra Magnus' office, not really understanding what the problem was. It had been almost ten minutes since he had entered and handed Ultra Magnus his report, and Ultra Magnus still wasn't done reading it.

What was so difficult about reading the report of a perfectly uneventful day?

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, an action that he regretted at once and hoped Ultra Magnus didn't notice. After all, though Bluestreak _was _impatient, it wasn't in his place to actually showsuch a thing in front of his commanding officer.

_Patience can take you a long way, _he thought, recalling what Prowl used to tell him as the young mech's mentor. _It helps you assess matters clearly and without mistakes._

Keeping that in mind and making sure that Ultra Magnus wouldn't notice him this time either, he checked from the corner of his optic the time reading in the monitor of the nearby computer.

He had twenty minutes to spare. Good.

Still, he would rather reach his dorms without the risk of breaking certain speed-limit rules.

"All right, everything seems to be in order," Ultra Magnus said at that moment, placing Bluestreak's report down. "You can go."

"Okay, Ultra Magnus." The gunner got ready to turn on his heel and leave.

"Oh, and Bluestreak?"

Bluestreak stopped on his tracks at once. "Yes?"

"Next time you want to leave _that _badly, just ask to be excused. Chances are I won't say 'No.'" A small smile graced the large mech's features, making his tease perfectly clear.

Bluestreak felt his face-plate going red. "Okay," he said sheepishly. "Thank you, Ultra Magnus."

And with that, the gunner walked out and headed towards his dorms. A quarter of an hour later, he was pressing the enter button and walking inside his quarters with a small sigh of relief.

_Home, sweet home. _

And, what was more, he could use the extra five minutes at his disposal to have a quick shower.

That was one thing he liked about having quarters of his own right here in Autobot City. In the Ark, he would have to wait in line at the common washracks for other mechs to finish with their own washing up. True, that in itself wasn't so bad, but the fact that he was sometimes unlucky enough to wait for mechs like Tracks and Sunstreaker to finish _was_. Because then Bluestreak was doomed to wait for two hours straight, while his limbs were screaming _ache_ and _weary_.

Another good thing about private quarters was that Bluestreak had quite the ample space all to himself. He could put his belongings anywhere he liked, invite anyone and as manyas he liked, and even stay up as long as he liked.

He _could_, being the keyword here. Because the truth of the matter was that Bluestreak was a fairly tidy and organised mech, so he kept everything in its appropriate place. Moreover, he didn't invite more than just a couple of friends, either to play on the Playstation or watch anything that caught their fancy on TV. And as for staying up… he just didn't feel like it; especially when he had to be on duty early the next day.

"Prowl rubbed off on you!" Sideswipe had said once jokingly. And though Bluestreak laughed along with the others, he could only admit that it was true: after sharing with his mentor the same quarters for almost twenty years, he had picked up some habits that just didn't die.

That reminded him the one major drawback about having his own personal dorms.

He missed Prowl's company. He missed his mentor's presence, his calm voice as he advised him, the time they spent together whenever they both happened to be off duty, such a rare occurrence that they always made the most out of it. Sometimes they stayed in their dorms and read, or sometimes they just drove off to see where the road would take them - it didn't matter to Bluestreak. Because no matter what they ended up doing in their free time, what he enjoyed the most was their talks, for they could talk about anything.

Well, Bluestreak did the talking most of the times, whereas Prowl listened.

Even so, there were also those times that Bluestreak remained silent so that he would listen to Prowl talking about some story or other of his past before the war. He cherished those moments because he was learning something more about the tactician.

Now those moments were limited to an hour once a week.

Speaking of which…

At 9 o' clock sharp, his computer made the small buzzing sound the gunner had been waiting for.

"Incoming transmission from Cybertron's 1st Moonbase."

Bluestreak hurried to his desk and sat down. "On screen," he instructed, smiling warmly.

Prowl was right on time like always.

Moments later, the tactician's face appeared on the monitor, a small smile in greeting. "Hello, Bluestreak."

"Hey, Prowl! How've you been?"

"On duty, for the most part. And you?"

"Yeah, me too. There was some rain two days ago and the water washed up mud and rocks on some of the roads leading to the Autobot City, so we've been trying to clean up that mess so far. Huffer has been complaining 24/7 about what's the point of it all if the next downpour is going to bring _more_ mud, but you know how he is, he's always complaining about something. Sideswipe has been helping as well. Or, at least, that's what he says anyway. He and Hot Rod are more busy trying to escape Kup's wrath whenever they pull a prank or something. Did I tell you what they did last time?"

"If you mean the one with the skunks, yes," Prowl said.

Bluestreak laughed. "No, no, another one! They waxed the floor in the main control room and you can imagine what happened next. Every mech that entered just slid and hit the wall across."

Prowl shook his head. "How many?"

"Hmm… let me think," Bluestreak started counting mechs on his fingers. "There was Blaster, Perceptor, Mirage, Windcharger, Springer, Gears, Tracks, Blurr, Slingshot and last but not least… Trailbreaker."

Prowl actually winced. "That must have hurt."

"It was still an impressive pile," Bluestreak said.

"Bluestreak… you shouldn't say that at your fellow Autobots' expense," Prowl said in a disapproving tone.

"Yeah, sorry Prowl," the gunner said, blushing as shame caught up with him.

"Even if I agree it must have been an impressive pile."

Bluestreak looked up, realising that Prowl was only teasing him. "Hey! You're supposed to be the serious one!" he exclaimed.

"My apologies," Prowl said, though something in his expression clearly showed Bluestreak that he wasn't sorry in the least. Not that Bluestreak would have it any other way though. He liked it when Prowl was relaxed like this.

"So, how many hours did Sideswipe and Hot Rod stay in the brig for _this _little stunt?" Prowl asked curiously.

Bluestreak grinned. "Take a guess."

Prowl came up with the answer quickly.

"They're _still _in the brig, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Bluestreak said with a nod. "They will be released tomorrow morning; although, just between you and me, Kup would have preferred it if they stayed there for the next few millennia. You know, he once asked me how you put up with Sideswipe all those years in the Ark."

"And what did you answer?"

"Lots of practice."

Prowl couldn't help it; he chuckled. "Yes, I suppose that's quite the apt answer."

"I learned from the best," Bluestreak said. "And I mean it, too."

The tactician said nothing this time. His expression became quite thoughtful, and there was a strange smile on his face plate that Bluestreak didn't know what to make of.

"Perhaps a visit to Earth wouldn't be such a bad idea. I can teach Kup a thing or two on how to deal with Sideswipe."

Bluestreak felt his optics widening as surprise overwhelmed him. "Are you saying that…?"

Prowl nodded. "Prime ordered the preparation of a shuttle to be sent to Earth. The trip is scheduled for tomorrow morning."

"And here you are, letting me babble on when you could have said something sooner!" the gunner said, though he was sure that he didn't sound as scolding as he would have liked. "I'll have to get some extra energon and clean up some space for you. How long are you going to stay? Oh, never mind, I'll talk to Ultra Magnus to see if there are any extra berths to install temporarily--"

"Bluestreak…"

"What time do you arrive? Because I'll have to ask Kup to give me a couple of hours' leave so I can wait for you by the runway--"

"Bluestreak…"

"And maybe I should tell the other guys as well, they'll be more than happy to see you. Who else is coming with you?"

"Bluestreak."

The quiet, yet steadfast tone finally snapped Bluestreak out of it. "Hm? Yes, Prowl?"

"_Now _you're babbling."

"Oh… Sorry, Prowl."

However, the tactician was still smiling. "As to when I arrive, it should be in two days, 10 o' clock in the morning, Earth Time. We can worry about those other things later, all right?"

"Okay."

"Good," Prowl said. His gaze drifted at the direction of what Bluestreak guessed to be the time reading on the monitor. "3 o'clock, Moonbase Time. I should go. Goodnight, Bluestreak."

"Okay. Goodnight, Prowl. See you in two days," Bluestreak said ruefully, and watched Prowl end the message. The gunner hadn't even realised how the hour just went by, and he felt he hadn't even managed to say a _third _of all the things he wanted to tell Prowl.

_Well, I can wait two days more. _

And with that, he turned off his computer and headed to his berth to catch a few hours of rest. He recharged peacefully, without a care in the world.

Because he didn't know that in two days' time the Decepticons would attack the Autobot City, or that he would have to fight for his life. He didn't know that he would see a trail of smoke rising heavenwards in a forest nearby, or that he would rush to its direction, fearing the worst.

He didn't know that he would be surrounded by the debris of what was once a space shuttle or that he would kneel by Prowl's dead body.

He didn't know that, in two days' time, his life would turn into ruins a second time.

**The End**


End file.
